Chancellor Olaf Scholtz speaks of a “Zeitenwende”, a turning point, in Germany’s assumptions about defence. His reluctant decision to supply Leopard tanks to Ukraine is just that and more, a turning point in how the country sees itself.
Germany is not alone. The war in Ukraine and Chinese sabre-rattling have triggered a reappraisal of defence thinking in a range of small and large countries – including Ireland – who have until now shared similar pacifist or neutralist wariness of militarism and military alliances.
Reflecting on the new film adaptation of Erich Maria Remarque’s anti-war All Quiet on the Western Front, historian Katja Hoyer points to profound differences in attitudes to war and commemorative memorials between Germany and others, differences underpinning its popular postwar pacifism. “Where the victorious powers see purpose in suffering, most Germans see only senseless slaughter and guilt,” she writes
“American and British war films,” the film’s director Edward Berger argues, “never show my perspective, the perspective I have as a German. Not that of America, that saved Europe from fascism, or England, which was attacked and drawn into a war against their will ... For us, it’s the exact opposite. In our national psych, there is nothing but guilt, horror, terror and destruction.”
Christmas digestifs: buckle up for the strong stuff once dinner is done
Western indifference to Israel’s thirst for war defines a grotesque year of hypocrisy
Why do so many news sites look so boringly similar? Because they have to play by Google and Meta’s rules
Christmas dinner for under €35? We went shopping to see what the grocery shop really costs
Such attitudes shaped the debate over German tanks – the first it will deploy on European soil since the War in anything other than a peacekeeping role. Although the Bundeswehr has deployed to Bosnia, Kosovo, Afghanistan and Mali the view persisted that Germany would never again be involved in large-scale war.
Days before the invasion of Ukraine, its Green foreign minister Annalena Baerbock was adamant: “Our responsibility after the second World War was that never again from Germany there will be war, and never again there will be genocide.” But in its wake Germany has not only announced a €100 billion boost to its own military but has sent significant aid and weaponry to Ukraine.
In South Korea, president Yoon Suk-yeol set off alarms warning that Seoul may need to develop nuclear weapons to counter North Korean nuclear threats
For small European countries there has also been a growing explicit recognition that they can only defend themselves by partnering with other states. EU integration has also fostered a sense of a common endeavour and shared responsibility.
Ukraine was the point of no return in Finland attitudes. “Neutrality” has long evolved into “military non-alignment” and a gradual closening to Nato, now membership. For years polls had shown only 22 – 25 per cent supported joining Nato. But by June 2022 it was 75 per cent. And Sweden followed.
Even in Switzerland, officially neutral since 1815, 52 per cent of respondents surveyed in May and June favoured closer links with Nato.
Support for neutrality in Austria remains high, although EU accession in 1995 was a clear sign of transition to a broader interpretation of neutrality. Of those surveyed recently only 16 per cent favour joining Nato. But, surrounded by five Nato members, Austrians feel protected and it has been taken for granted that Austria can rely on external help in the event of an attack.
It shares with Ireland the largely unspoken assumption of a Nato security blanket, essentially freeriding on neighbours’ willingness to come to our defence if attacked, a commitment made explicit now in the EU treaty. In Ireland, inevitably, squaring that reality will mean a gradual de facto reimagining of “neutrality” for a new age, initially with a commitment to a 50 per cent increase in defence spending.
That reimagining of defence postures is also happening on the other side of the world.
In the face of Chinese sabre-rattling in the South China Sea and over Taiwan, and accelerating North Korean missile testing, Japan in December announced a doubling by 2027 of defence spending to 2 per cent of GDP. It is a dramatic shift in Japan’s “pacifist” military policy which, under the postwar senshu boei (“exclusively defence-oriented policy”), limited capabilities to what is needed to repel an armed attack on its territory.
Its armed forces, “Self-Defence Forces”, will acquire new “counterstrike” weapon systems, allowing it to target enemy territory following an attack on Japan, and new aircraft, ships and long-range missiles. The arms industry will be encouraged to expand its manufacturing capacity. A poll last April showed that 55 per cent of voters now approve of that increase in defence spending.
And in South Korea, earlier this month, president Yoon Suk-yeol set off alarms warning that Seoul may need to develop nuclear weapons – or demand redeployment of US nukes to the peninsula – to counter North Korean nuclear threats. The move marks a sharp U-turn on the country’s non-nuclear stance which would mean breaking from the central global pillar of nuclear non-proliferation, the NPT. It too is supported by voters: polling last year found 71 per cent of South Koreans believe their military should acquire the bomb.
Russia and China are gradually sinking the noble idealism of Remarque.